My Bludger
by bpfatcat
Summary: A reason to read Hogwarts; A History. Rated T for mild language.


**A/N** Hi guys! This is the far overdue story for the lovely bookworm4life0812, who made an awesome video for one of my stories; link is on my profile! Bookworm, I know you love the accent but I'm rubbish at writing it... Hope you enjoy anyway!

 **A/N2** For those of you waiting, here's the update on Girl No More. Basically, most of my writing was deleted, then Real Life kicked in with some serious stuff, so I've barely had chance to write at all; this is the first I've written in weeks (please excuse any grammar/spelling issues in this story; my beta reader is ill). But I have _not_ given up on it, and I won't abandon it. I just need to sort some things out before I continue with it. It's no excuse, and I'm sorry, but please stick with me.

And as always...

Enjoy!

 **My Bludger**

Hermione Granger was Not Happy. Capital N, capital H. To most people, this would mean at least a three mile radius of avoidance, but there were those who simply underestimated her, remembered her as her old bookish self or, the worst of all, those that thought that they could casually speak to her. I was one of the worst.  
"Alright there?" I thought it was an innocent question.  
Apparently not.  
"What's it to you?" She bit back, hair crackling and eyes blazing.  
"Well then, I'll be goin'!" I snapped back; yes, I was annoyed, but if there is one thing you should know about Hermione Granger, it's that you will almost _always_ be angry with her, right before you fall hopelessly in love with her.

It was only a few days later that I saw her again, at the Puddlemere v Cannons game; Ginny Weasley, her ex-boyfriend's sister, was the Quidditch reporter for the Prophet, and for some reason had brought Hermione to the match. When I flew past the podium they were sat in, I almost thought I caught her looking at me. Heck, I even imagined that she'd maybe _asked_ to come to this game, because I was playing. But that was ridiculous. Not that I was bothered. Then I flew right into the next stand, still trying to see her.

We won that game, I know that's what you really want to hear about. They had decent chasers but a rubbish seeker. I mean our seeker isn't a Potter, but at least he can notice when something's buzzing by his ear. I noticed that Hermione was wearing our colours. But, whatever. I didn't care. It was pretty nice of her, I guess, and she did look pretty good in that t-shirt... But no, I definitely didn't care.

The next time I saw her, we were both wearing the same colour. Again. I was surprised, to say the least, to see her at the Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch, grinning and cheering. "I thought you we'nae a fan o' Quidditch?" I asked, somewhat tentatively.  
"I'm not a fan of Quidditch, but..." She shrugged and gave me a small smile. "There are some positives to it."  
I'm grateful that she turned to watch the game again at that point, because I'm pretty sure my jaw dropped to the bottom of the pitch. "Oh aye." I murmured.  
She turned her head, her insanely wild hair flying around her as if she was permanently on a broomstick. "You know, I've read up on the theories and strategies of Quidditch." She said it casually, but my heart fell. I'd heard from Harry that she didn't like Quidditch, but I mean- "And you did incredibly well in your last game."  
"Really?!" I'm not sure whether I was more surprised at her compliment or the fact that she'd actually paid attention to a game. She gave a hum of agreement before turning back to the students. Not that I cared.

"Ravenclaw is going to win." She whispered in my ear a few moments later, and I scoffed.  
"Please, have ya seen their Seeker?"  
She frowned at me and, oddly, I thought it was the cutest thing I'd ever seen. "Exactly." She said in an irritatingly know-it-all voice that for some reason made me grin. What she said next though made my face feel like it was splitting in half. "They're making the other team concentrate on their rubbish seeker, so that everyone will ignore the fact that they're already," She briefly looked to the scoreboard, before smiling, "210 points up. You should remember that strategy."  
I have to be honest, I didn't believe her but, just as she had said, Ravenclaw were winning, and just as she had said, they won. I tried to see her after the match but, again, she was gone.

I was _not_ going to the Ministry so that I might see her. I was _not_ trying to mention her every time I saw Harry. I was _not_ hoping that I'd see her at my next match. Ginny Weasley would be there, so maybe? But I was _not_ going to let her interfere with my match. I was not even going to look at that stand.

I looked.

She wasn't there.

Not that I cared.

…

The first half was awful. Genuinely awful. But then I thought I saw Hermione on the pitch, and it gave me an idea. "We need to put all o' the focus on the Seeker." At first our Captain was, understandably, confused, but then I explained it and, as we knew we had a killer set of Chasers, it might be the way to win! Captain complimented me for the idea and I said I'd just got it from 'some girl'. Well, that was a lie. She wasn't just 'some girl'.  
We won. They caught the snitch, but by that point be were over 400 points up. Damn Hermione, damn her and her lack of Quidditch skills but her brilliant Quidditch skills and her not being here and-

-crap-

-she's here. That was my mindset; when I'm meant to be celebrating I'm thinking about her. Then she was just there, there and smiling. "So, uh, I guess you were there? At half-time?"

"Perhaps." She walked closer and I was very conscious of the considerable smell coming from my uniform, and from me. "I noticed that you listened to what I said in the Ravenclaw game." I nodded dumbly. Later, I would wonder at the fact that she'd been watching our team long enough to know to give me the advice about our seeker, but there and then... For Merlin's sake, I must look, and smell, like a damn ape! But then there was her. I mean, she looked seriously good, I don't think Puddlemere's colours have ever looked so good. My mind shut down, but luckily, Hermione Granger always knows exactly what to do. Unfortunately, what she did made me more confused than before. When the heck did this girl start to dictate what I was feeling? She merely kissed my cheek and it felt like the bludger I'd narrowly avoided during the match had hit me right in the chest. Breathless, stunned, yet loving the small, seemingly smug smile she wore, I grinned like a dope for quite a few minutes. A few too many minutes, it would seem, as when I came back down to Earth, she was gone. _Again_.

…

I wasn't sure whether I was relieved or not when I saw her next, in a casual bar, away from Quidditch. I mean, obviously I _wanted_ to talk to her about something else, in fact I'd spent many moments imagining speaking to her, both awake and asleep, but what in Merlin's name could I talk about?! I wasn't _un_ intelligent, but compared to Hermione Granger, practically everyone was. So how could I, Quidditch-mad man who hadn't a care for Hogwarts; A History, possibly speak to Hermione Granger? How could I, Hermione-mad man, who was seriously considering reading Hogwarts; A History, if only for something to talk to her about, possibly ask her out on a date?

As always, she knew what to do.

When her eyes met mine, I became very conscious of _everything_. Not just the way my mouth was hanging open, though I hadn't told it to. Not just the way that my eyes were so wide that moisture was forming in the dryness, though I hadn't told them to act as though they had toothpicks lodged between the lids. Not just the way that looking at her made something Very Deep and Very Pleasant, begin to stir below my stomach. No, the things that I became aware of was were the frantic beating of my heart that was the only thing that kept me alive, and my lungs, yes they were surely working but yet I couldn't seem to breathe, and it was only the sound of my heartbeat in my ears that made me listen for a breath.

Listening to little things is important, you see, when you're on the pitch. Especially when you're a Keeper, and a Captain at that. All you want to do is fly around and experience what everyone else is; the rush, the purpose, the teamwork. Many a time at school I saw a Bludger heading straight for a Chaser on the opposite end of the pitch, and at first I used to scream at them. Then I learnt it was useless. They simply won't hear you. You have to focus on things that you _can_ do, people that _can_ hear, dangers you _can_ block.

You see, the little things _matter_. When you can make a difference, even if you can't do anything unless it's five feet away from you, they _matter_. I hope you never realise this truly, because I hope to Merlin, Circe, and whatever Muggle God there may be, that you never experience war.

I digress, and I'm close to crying, so...

She met my eyes in that random pub, and then walked over. I was still, you have to understand, rather amazed that I was still even breathing, so when she gave that Merlin-be-damned-beautiful smile of hers and said hello, I can't blame myself for replying, "Nggffllll." Even I didn't know what I had intended to say. Heck, to this day Hermione still leaves me speechless.  
Anyhow, I was a bumbling ape, as I frequently feel around a certain Miss Granger (Mrs, rather), but, as per usual, she knew what to do. "Hello." She repeated, with a secret smile. "Ignoring me, are you?"  
"No!" Looking back, I should be embarrassed at how loudly I yelled that, but I had to make her understand, that the _last_ thing I would _ever_ do would be ignore her. Even if I was able to. She merely raised one eyebrow, eyes twinkling with some humour that even decades later, I would never be able to give a justified description to. "Well, might I be bold enough to ask how you are?" She asked in a voice the _maybe_ I'd imagine was coy... Maybe that tone was flirtatious?  
"I'm fine." I'm embarrassed to say that this was my reply. But what could I say? She did that damn-adorable 'hmm' that I hated yet loved all at once. I was not used to this. I didn't know how to deal with this.

Later, I learned, she didn't either. ' _I liked you, but I didn't know what to do. So I acted like Ginny, in a way. I was pretty drunk, you know, when I walked up to you that day? I don't regret it though._ '

"May I buy you a drink?" I wasn't entirely sure who'd said that, until I realised my mouth was hanging open _again_ , and Hermione Granger was smiling at me.  
"Okay, if you're sure of asking?"  
"No!" I spouted promptly. Her brow furrowed slightly and this was the first time, though I didn't realise it at that moment, that she was unsure about 'us', whatever 'us' meant at that time. "Urgh." I grimaced and tried again. "I'd very much lovely to honoured and..." I can't even describe what was going through my head. I'd intended to ask her on a date, but what came out was quite different. "Iwanttokissyou."  
She frowned. "Sorry, what did you say?"

I ran.

…

She ignored me, when I saw her next. I can't blame her, really; I'd acted like a total... Well... You know. But I was determined to make it up to her, so at Harry's Birthday Party, a few weeks after the disastrous pub encounter, I grabbed a bottle from the chiller and took it over to the small group she was stood in; Harry, Dean, George, Angelina, Katie and, of course Hermione.

"I promised ye' a drink." I muttered, thoroughly embarrassed as all six looked at me whilst I gave her the bottle.  
She seemed to be biting back a laugh, in fact they all did, but she smiled anyway. "Thanks, I, uhh, didn't think I was that drunk but..."  
I frowned, and looked down at the bottle of what I had been _sure_ was beer, to find clear liquid that when I twisted the cap off and smelt- yes, it was water. "Uh..." Dear Merlin, I was so embarrassed!

The others seemed to give secret looks that I was _desperate_ to understand, before Hermione took my arm and led me and any thoughts about the others away. "How about we get some proper drinks?" She said laughingly, before she halted, seemingly nervous. "Unless you're going to run off again?" She said it jokingly, but she was gnawing at her lip, clearly tense.  
"No, I willnae be goin' anywhere." I grunted lowly, loving the way her eyes crinkled as she grinned.  
"Well good, come on then."

"So." She began when we had bottles of beer. Real beer, I mean, not beer that looked and smelt like water. "What was with the whole disappearing act last time we saw each other?"  
I'm sure my face was as red as my old Gryffindor kit. "Uhh, well, I wasnae sure if, you know, uhh, my buying yeh a drink would be welcome."She smirked. "Even after I'd said yes?"  
Pretty sure that I'd gone from red to purple, I didn't respond for a while. "Well, I-"  
"What was it you said before you ran off, anyway?"  
"Uh... Um... Eh..." I promise that I can speak English. Yet around her, my vocabulary seems to... Well, it takes a long drop off a broom. Still does, actually.  
She ducked her face and looked at me through her tawny fringe and lashes. "It's funny..." She began, gnawing her lip and dropping her eyes. "I almost thought that you said something about..."  
"Yes?!" I jumped in, my main though being that if she'd heard what I'd attempted to say, and she hadn't run away, then maybe...?  
"Well," I still remember the adorable blush on her cheeks, "it sounded like you'd said something about... Kissing? Me?"

She still berates me for this, by the way. _Well if you'd just enunciated properly that night, then-_ That's usually when I cut her off with a kiss. She still blushes sometimes.

Anyway, Harry's party. Well, she looked pretty embarrassed, and I didn't want to push things, so I kissed her on the cheek. Sweet Merlin; I've rarely seen her so unimpressed, and I've known her for decades now.  
"That's it?!" She asked. Well, demanded, if we're honest.  
"Uh, well, I, um..." I _promise_ I can speak English.  
"Well then." She huffed, squared her shoulders and began to turn away, and that's when I had the best thought of my life; If it goes wrong, it goes wrong- if it goes right, who knows?

So, I grabbed her shoulder as she was turning to leave, buried my hand in that flyaway hair and kissed her, right on that irritatingly know-it-all, gorgeous, perfect mouth. Once she'd got over the shock her body melted into mine, that body that had absolutely _no_ place on a Quidditch pitch, or on a broom for that matter (don't tell her I told you that), but that fit against mine like a hand around a Snitch. There and then, I suppose, was when I knew. I knew that I would ask her what her favourite restaurant was, so I could take her there. I knew that I would ask her everything about her Ministry job, and look up all the business-esque terms she would undoubtedly use. I knew that I would read Hogwarts; A History.

Because, although I don't believe in love at first sight, there was something between us right there. And I wanted to fight for it. I'm glad I did too, because otherwise I wouldn't have you. You and Hermione are the best things that have ever happened to me. Though I guess I should start calling her Mum now.

…

"Yes, you should." Hermione grinned at the image of her husband holding their baby in the rocking chair.  
"Did I wake ye?" Oliver whispered, his face cringing in concern.  
She shook her head. "This one did." She patted her swollen belly and smiled softly as he kissed first her midriff, then her lips. Taking their son from Oliver's lap and placing him back in his cot, where he soundly slept, she led him to their bed and tilted her head at him. "Which story were you telling him?"  
"The story o' how we met."  
Hermione smiled. "You managed to fit that into ten minutes?"  
He winked. "Nae, I jus' gave the wee lad the highlights."


End file.
